I was born in a log cabin in . . . .No that's someone else's story, better start again.
I was born in 1948 in Saalfelden, District of Salzburg, Austria. My parents brought me and my four brothers and sisters to Chicago, Illinois in January of 1954. My early education, in school and out, occured there. By grade six I was walking home from school and sitting on mailboxes with an older man. Ken was in grade eight. We married in 1966. Two years later, under pressure from the Vietnam War, we emigrated to Toronto, Ontario, Canada, where we made a modest but happy living. The happiest event of those early years in Toronto was the birth of our son, Christiaan, in 1970.
The following year, Ken accepted a job in the psychology department of Nipissing University in North Bay, a small city about 400 k. north of Toronto. More years of modest but happy living followed. In 1978, our daughter, Katherine, was born. Ken continued teaching, but his main interests were in literature and art. He spent his time writing (a novel and several books of poetry followed) and publishing a small literary magazine called Nebula. I spent my time immersed in the incredible beauty and unending wonder of unfolding life.
When Katherine was still a toddler, I returned to University, at first taking only courses which interested me (primarily literature, history and philosophy). As I began to approach the number of credits required for graduation, however, I decided to look at the requirements for a B.A. Not wanting to be done with school, I went to Teacher's College. Not gaining a permanent job, I returned to school for my Master's degree in history. Besides the course work required, I had great fun researching and writing a thesis on Ernest Jones, an important member of the Chartist Movement.
Now I am happily employed at Nipissing University, where I lecture in the departments of English, classics and occasionally history. We have a little more money for travel (in Turkey, Greece and Eastern Europe this past summer). But on the whole, our life continues modest but happy. Our house is small and in constant need of repair, we do not own a car, our dog only sometimes comes when we call her, but we have four computers between us, jobs which allow time for reading, studying and travel, and a perennial garden which annually rewards us for work done years before. Our children, surely life's greatest reward, continue to amaze us, not only with their accomplishments, but also with their warmth and their intellectual curiosity. We have a good life, Ken and I.
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